


Sto Hell

by Andydrarch



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Short dumb things, and probably anxiety in general at some point, vague mentions of anxiety attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16256072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andydrarch/pseuds/Andydrarch
Summary: Local idiot writes a bunch (maybe) of fluffy snippets for Mort and Ysabell because I’m love them. There’s no rhyme or reason for them it’s just a pile of nonchronological trash





	1. Teen Dad Feels Bad

It was something small that woke her up, something like a door latching or clothes hitting the floor, and even then she wasn’t completely awake. It wasn’t until the blankets lifted up that Ysabell found herself blinking away intense grogginess in an attempt to recognize who she was staring at.

“Oh gods, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” said the person hovering overhead. Ysabell rubbed her eyes, groaning as her brain finally switched on.

“Mmmort?” she managed, squinting. The vague outline of a smile entered her vision and she tried to replicate it. Mort laughed softly and leaned forward, kissing Ysabell on the forehead.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, “Carriage wheel broke and we got stuck for a couple hours.”

Ysabell slid her arms around his neck, hugging herself against him. “That’s alright.”

“I’d’ve said goodnight to Susan but, well, you know.”

“It’s fine, Mort.”

“A-and, well, I know we had some things planned, but-“

“ _Gods_ , Mort, it’s totally fine,” Ysabell said, tugging at his hair gently. He sighed.

“I know, I know, I just hate that I wrecked toni-“

“Oh my gods, you didn’t wreck anything,” she murmured, pausing to kiss his chin. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

Mort pulled the blankets up over himself, arms sliding around Ysabell’s waist as he snuggled up against her. They kissed, and Mort shifted so his chin was resting on the top of her head.

After a moment of laying in silence Mort cleared his throat and said, “We’re going to have sex tomorrow then, right?”

“ _Obviously_ , I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”


	2. Idk coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap guys I actually wrote another one

Mort sipped at his coffee, his posture slouched as he rested against the kitchen counter. He wasn’t really planning on doing anything that day, so getting up when it was still dark out seemed a bit dumb, but he’d woken up and couldn’t fall back asleep and figured he could do _something_ productive. The only issue, really, was that he had no idea what to do other than drink coffee in the kitchen while a few servants stared at him, and occasionally scratch part of his torso because he’d accidentally put on one of his crappy itchy shirts.

Stretching his legs, Mort started sifting through ideas for the day. Nothing was really sticking out, though, especially because he’d just finished up a treaty yesterday. He was starting to get a vague feeling that maybe lying wide awake in bed wasn’t such a bad thing.

His gaze flicked over to the doorway, rather surprised to see Ysabell walking in rubbing her eyes. “Hey, Yzzie,” he said, setting down his mug, “what’re you doing up?”

“What’re _you_ doing up?” she said, a bit of a whine in her voice. Slowly, her path turned over towards him and she just kinda walked into his chest.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Mort said, hands sliding up to her waist. “I thought I might as well get up.”

Ysabell tilted her head up just enough to glare at him. “You’re supposed to be taking the day off,” she said, voice muffled by his chest. 

“I _am,_  I just got up kinda early.”

“Yeah, _but_ I wanted to cuddle this morning and it’s kind of hard to do that alone.”

Mort paused. “Fair point.”

“I know it’s kind of _pushy_ for me to want to make you stay in bed for a while when I haven’t spent any time with you lately.” 

“Oh my gods, Yzzie, I was awake for like an hour before I got up. I just, you know, got sick of lying in bed so you could sleep on me.” 

“ _Mort_ , I’m awake now, we can talk while we’re curled up together.”

Smiling, Mort nuzzled the top of her head. “That’s true, yeah, we can go do that.” 

“Yeah,” Ysabell said, “and maybe some other stuff?” 

Mort glanced up at the servants he’d just remembered were there, grasping Ysabell’s hands. “Sounds great, Yzzie.”

“Thank you,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss his chin. Mort beamed. 

“You’re really cute when you’re tired.”

“That’s stupid, I’m _always_ really cute.”


	3. Mort Has An Anxiety Attack

“A-alright, I think I’m fine now.”

“You’re sure?”

“Well… I’m not crying anymore, am I?”

Ysabell smiled and ran her hand down Mort’s back. “ _Gods_ , don’t joke about that,” she said, looking up at him.

Mort kissed her on the forehead and hugged her a bit tighter. “Thanks for, um, helping me calm down.”

“I wasn’t going to let my boyfriend cry in his room all night,” Ysabell said. “At least, not by himself.”

“Well, I, uh, I appreciate it,” Mort said. He slid his arms out from around her and leaned back on his palms. “I, um, I hope this wasn’t _too_ much of a turn off.”

Ysabell laughed. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t,” she said, and then kissed him on the cheek. “You’re going to have to do better than that to get rid of me.”

“I normally, um, have a couple of those episodes a week, actually,” Mort said, glancing off to the side.

“Well,” Ysabell said, “it’s a good thing I’ve got some experience, then.”

She gently pushed on the side of his head until he was looking at her again and smiled. His eyes lowered and his cheeks flushed, hands fiddling with the hem of her dress absentmindedly.

“The, um,” he said, eyes squeezing shut, “the breathing thing worked pretty well. N-not as much as you just being here, though.”

Ysabell stared for a moment, mildly surprised, and then leaned up against him. “Well, I know _I_ would’ve handled things better with some company, so it just made sense. And anyways, breathing like that was just about the best thing I had.”

“It was a, uh, a big help,” Mort said, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “I mean, I’ve been getting bad enough attacks that I’ll start throwing up-”

“ _Oh,_  sweetie,” Ysabell said, cringing, “That sounds awful.”

Mort hunched his shoulders. “You mean you’ve _never_ had one where you’ve thrown up?”

“I don’t think I had them frequent enough.”

There was a long pause. “ _Gods,_  I wish I had mine less often,” he murmured into the top of her head, slouching.

Taking a deep breath, Ysabell pulled her head back and slid her hands down his arms. “Look, let’s not get you all worked up again, alright? We can worry about this later.”

“That’s, um, probably a good idea,” Mort said, smiling vaguely as he added, “Thanks, Bell.” Then, trying his best to stay calm, he grabbed her shoulders and bent down to kiss her. Ysabell wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him.

“Alright,” Ysabell said after a few minutes, hands sliding down to his chest, “let’s get back to the party!” 

 


	4. Local Awkward Teens Can’t Deal With Their Sexual Tension Even When Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There might be a part two to this one lol we’ll see

Mort liked parties. A nice meal, free drinks, and a bit of music never hurt anyone, after all. This, however, was not a party; it was an event. An event which, even after a few of those free drinks, was really aggravating his anxiety.

There were hundreds of people all talking and eating and the music was almost at orchestra volume and he was really starting to think he and Keli had very different definitions of parties. The biggest party he’d ever been to was his eldest brother’s wedding, and there were barely thirty people there. Just the sheer increase in bodies was putting him on-edge, and it _really_ didn’t help that the whole thing was being thrown in his honor as the new Duke of Sto Helit.

Mort could only handle the handshakes and awkward conversations and comments implying he really didn’t deserve the position for a couple hours, and then he was stiffly walking over to a balcony with a wine glass in his hand and hoping no one followed him. The cool spring air nipped at his skin as he opened one of the glass doors and he inhaled it gratefully. It wasn’t really clearing the fuzziness in his brain, but at least he felt substantially less claustrophobic.

Latching the door as gently as possible, Mort took a long swig of his drink and turned back towards the balcony. He choked on his wine upon seeing another person out with him and started coughing, which caught said person’s attention. Even if it was a bit dark out, he could tell by the pink and white that it was Ysabell. Mort stared at her with disdain as he started to catch his breath.

“Mort?” she said, moving towards him from her spot against the railing, “Are you, um, alright?”

Mort cleared his throat a couple times and tried to look less miserable. “Yeah, I just, er, swallowed something the wrong way.”

“Well, I suppose it’s... better than having a cold?” she said, glancing off to the side as she finished talking. Mort shrugged.

“I guess.”

They stood for a moment in silence, and Mort took another drink. He could tell the alcohol was finally starting to kick in because Ysabell was starting to look a bit fuzzy and it really wasn’t bothering him that neither of them had said anything for a while. Mostly the latter was clueing him in.

“Sssso,” he managed as the fog in his head intensified, “why’re you out here?”

“I’m not used to this many people _at all,_ ” Ysabell said, and Mort thought she was twirling her hair around her finger. It was hard to tell, though.

He gulped down the rest of his wine and headed over to the railing, resting his arms on it as he leaned against it bodily. “Yeah, me neither.”

Ysabell followed him, a nervous laugh in her throat. “We both need to get out more, then.”

“Sure,” Mort said, and started staring at her out of the corner of his eye. His brain was trying to tell him something, it was just taking a while for the message to take form with all the buzzing in his head.

“I mean, I’m sure this is all so overwhelming,” Ysabell said, and paused. When Mort didn’t answer, she added, “For you, I mean.”

His brain went numb briefly. “ _Godssss_ ,” he said, resting his chin against his hand, “yyyyeah, it’s been crazy. I don’t, um, think I’ll be any good at this. I’m not good at anything, really.”

“That’s not true! You’re, um, you’re good at…” There was a long pause “Well, um, I guess I don’t really _know_ -“

Mort’s expression didn’t change.

Ysabell’s gaze drifted off to the side. “I don’t even know _you_ very well, alright? But you can’t be awful at _everything_ because if you were you’d be good at being terrible.”

Slowly, Mort blinked. “That, um, that sounds about right.”

“What?”

“I’m really good at doing a bad job.”

“ _Gods_ , I’m just trying to cheer you up,” Ysabell said, vaguely glaring at him. Mort broke out in snickers.

“I’m just messing with you,” he said, smirking at her rather unamused expression. “Thanks for trying, though.” He felt a small twinge in his chest when Ysabell smiled back at him finally.

“You’re _welcome_.”

They both fell silent, and, with his mind slipping further into a drunken haze, Mort decided to stare at the sky for a bit. There were too many lights in Sto Lat to see stars, but he liked the look of the blackness way up there. His mind started to slip into a blank state, and then Ysabell leaned on the railing next to him.

“Anyways, um, it’s pretty out tonight. Of course, _anything’s_ pretty after seeing the same garden for 35 years.”

She stole a glance at him and Mort blinked. “Oh, um, I’d imagine.”

“And the same people.”

“Ssssuure, sure.”

His brain was finally catching up; he could practically feel the thought from earlier taking form. Slowly, he shifted his focus to thinking. Things seemed clearer for about five seconds just as the words popped into his head, and then the waves of fog came crashing back down on them.

“It’s hard to believe I haven’t even been on the Disc for a _week,_ ” Ysabell said, and her hand rested on his hand just about the same time the phrase ‘she likes you’ announced itself into his brain. “I’m glad I’ve got someone to help make adjusting to everything a bit easier.”

Mort was too hung up on ‘she likes you’ to even remotely attempt inference. “Oh really? Who’s, uh, that?”

She squeezed his hand softly and smiled down at the ground. “You, _obviously_.”

Mort thought about that statement for quite a while, and said, “I, uhhhhh, I think I‘m gonna puke.”

He could vaguely hear the phrase “ _what_?” before his memory blacked out.

 


End file.
